a four-day weekend (yes, it was supposed to be a whole week off but I'm an adult who doesn't believe in the Holiday Fairy, at least not in August) and seven volumes of Papuwa Redivivus and eleven volumes of FMA/ Hagaren and...
the first Hagaren DVD, come across by accident at the rental place. See, I read Hagaren 1 a while ago and found rereading it an exercise in both squint and futility (I've read this and I know what happens only there's stuff I probably missed so I suppose I should read it again only it takes time mumble grumble.) But here's a fast refresher, with subtitles and nice colours and nice music. I can see why people'd fall for the series from the anime: I probably would too.
Umm- in spite of its fandom. Once upon a time I wondered how
deepfryerfire and stanking could be driven from a series they found really excellent by a fandom of fourteen-year-old fanboys. OK. Now I know. Something has to be superduper rock solid head and shoulders and torso above the crowd (and probably press a few buttons as well) before the mud of a stupid fandom fails to stick to it. Cretinous Utena fans- hell, the cretinous Utena mangaka- cannot ruin the splendour that is Utena the anime. Utena the movie of course was made for the cretinous, but that's neither here nor there. Alas, very few things reach the level of Utena.Otherwise, however intriguing a series may be by itself, the gestalt suffers from the idiocies of its fans. Iya da by association, as it were. Clever Twit 1 and her clever friends yammer about This-one one incessantly. The fans of That-one send each other death threats over pairings. Every other entry at fanficrants is about The-other-one. Iya da iya da iya da. If that's what likes this, this can't be worth liking.
Some people never let the opinions or behaviour of others affect their own views. I admire that, I really do, but-- 'I could never learn the trick.' Some people have the ability to hold a child with a full diaper and not smell anything. (I work with them, she says morosely.) Works pretty much the same way, I'd say. I smell the shit and it ruins the atmosphere. Diapers at least one can change...
It so rarely works the other way round, that I call myself lucky to know one of those God-sent people whose tastes coincide almost exactly with my own and who reads more than I do (not that that's hard) and whose recommendations will always be an interesting if occasionally WTF read. (Rusted Metal Wasteland, say.) I was in a marvellous mood last weekend caused merely by the fact of having found a book that
paleaswater said I might enjoy. 